Four
by Matteoarts
Summary: A choice- to live or die. Simplicity reveals want. Want reveals will. Will grants purpose. The trials have begun.
1. Prologue

Death didn't come in the form of some distant, vague light calling to him. It wasn't a peaceful stroll through the most notable of his recollections over the years. It wasn't graceful, it wasn't kind, but neither was it malicious- it simply _was_.

If he'd had enough rational thought left to describe it, he probably would have compared its likeness to that of silence- but not really, because silence was perceptible. It was a lack of auditory stimuli, something you could still understand, could still know- this was a complete and utter absence of _anything. _It was the difference between closing an eye and having it removed- there was no shadowy blackness, there was unconditionally _nothing._

Nothing.

And then, out of the nothing-silence, came a roar of existence that tore its hold over him with its might, an explosion that ripped away the infinite nothing until it became _something_; and the fact that there was anything at all meant that he could perceive it, and once he perceived it he understood that he was no longer dead.

He was, however, very cold.

That was the first thing he noticed, a great chill that kissed every inch of his body that he could still feel, what little of it there was left. The next was the blood- it was everywhere. He tasted nothing but copper, and the dried stench of iron around him pervaded his senses to no end. There was light now, a sliver of luminescence which came from outside, wherever that was- it illuminated the floor and walls, now slicked with that same blood, _his _blood … and when he held his hands up to see them, he saw only red.

And the wind, the _wind-_ it screamed at him so, roaring with a ferocity that demanded to be heard, trying to tear its way into the cave where he'd awakened, daring him to venture out and see where he'd been taken.

Without knowing what compelled him to do so, he made to move towards the light, towards the crack in the carapace of his salvation- and promptly fell forward onto the rocky floor beneath him. His hands braced him for the fall, shaking weakly as they held his weight. He tried to bring his legs forward, but felt no such movement in their muscles. They refused to obey him, try as he might to order them otherwise.

Gritting his teeth, he continued on with another attempt. And another. And another. Though they remained dead and unfeeling, he kept on long past the point that any other would have come to terms with reality- at this point, giving up was a concept he barely understood at the foundational level, let alone something he could ever picture himself doing.

After all, what would _she _say?

A spark, the tiniest of embers, lit up in his legs. He blew on that ember, breathing life into it as his body shook from the effort and his jaw clenched so tightly that he feared his teeth might crack. The ember grew into a blaze, and then into an inferno- one that burned ferociously with torturous pain, his nerves having shut down to save him from it.

That was okay, he relished the pain- it had always been his constant companion, his closest friend- it told him he was alive, he hadn't drifted into the pleasure of numb oblivion. The pain grew tenfold as his leg finally listened to his order to move. Slowly, he drew it forward until his hands no longer solely supported his weight. He grabbed the wall tightly and pulled himself up, rising from where he'd knelt a moment ago as his other leg joined its twin in carrying him forward.

A small, flickering blue light caught his attention- one that illuminated the dark recesses of the cave from where it lay on the ground. Leaning against the wall for support, he reached down and grabbed her.

The core was still intact, just inactive thankfully. Without a receptacle, however, she was stuck like this- helpless and blind.

Clipping her to his belt, somehow still in one piece, he dragged himself out of the cave's maw. That oppressive cold was still present, if not more greatly felt outside. But 'outside' was somewhat difficult to define.

The ground beneath his feet was real enough, or it seemed to be- a mountainous plateau of rock. It stretched out for an indeterminate distance, littered with sharp points and large crags that reached upward. Dust and small reflective motes blew wildly across his vision in the gale, obscuring both sight and hearing.

But beyond that, no matter what direction he looked, logic had abandoned reality. Glittering triangles spun aimlessly in the air, like shards of glass expelled from a shattered mirror. Beams and rails of abstract light and color connected with them, forming a massive web of tetrahedral architecture.

Maybe he _was _dead, after all.

"_**... sorry ..."**_

He heard a voice echo through the air, said softly though he felt it reverberate around him as though it had been shouted. He turned his head this way and that, trying to locate the source-

"_**... sorry … not ready …"**_

He held his stomach like one would a toy whose stuffing is spilling out, feeling his wounds tear themselves open once more as he moved. Crimson began running down his armor, over and through the cracks in his fingers, and finally dribbled to the rock below where it stained the ground with dark, scarlet drops.

"Who's there?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and hollow. The voice sounded eerily familiar, but flanged and distorted. Who-?

"_**Trust me."**_

"_**Always."**_

Stunned, he realized that the voices speaking were _theirs, _it was the last words they'd spoken before- well, before _this._

If she could speak, she likely would have said something along the lines of, _We've been temporally displaced from our base location in relative space-time, _he thought dryly. As it was, he'd have to figure out-

"Did you mean it?"

He turned around to face the voice that had spoken from behind him, its tone cool and unnervingly calm. When his eyes found its owner, a chill ran up his spine and he froze to the spot, not daring to move a muscle.

"Y-You … you …"

"I can tell this is a face you haven't forgotten," the newcomer said, reaching a hand up and scratching the top of his shaved head absentmindedly as he had done so many times before. "You've seen many faces, haven't you? Living faces, dead faces … I've no doubt that you've forgotten most, but this one?" He grinned. "No, never this one."

"It's you," he muttered numbly, stating the obvious despite the impossibility of it. "How … you're _dead-"_

"Let's not beat around the bush, eh?" the man said with a smirk. "Just call it how it really is."

He narrowed his eyes. "I _killed _you."

"That, you did," Dimitri agreed with a small guffaw, one that did not mesh at all with their present surroundings. "And quite devilishly, I might add- you didn't fight better, but you certainly fought smarter."

He said nothing in response, still too nonplussed to reply. Dimitri eyed him up and down.

"So, did you mean it then?"

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. "Mean what?"

The other man gestured to the air around them, indicating no point in particular. "_That."_

"_**... the right choice is usually the hardest one … I'm not ready to give up on us …"**_

The whisper of his own echo rose out of the ether, hissing as it surrounded them. It seemed to rebound off of the triangles and lights that hovered around them, creating a chamber of sound that completely enveloped them.

He looked with no small amount of trepidation at the apparition of his former friend. "What are you? A ghost?"

"The ghost of a memory, maybe," Dimitri replied vaguely. "An echo of the man who wore this face."

"Am I dead?"

At that, the other man put a hand on his chin and stared at him thoughtfully. "Might be. Might not. Up to you."

He coughed and narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't make any sense-"

"And it won't start anytime soon," Dimitri cut him off. "There are no answers here- only the path."

"What path?"

"The path _forward_. The path to what you truly want."

"And what is it that I want?" he challenged, practically snarling at this point.

The man shrugged. "I don't know. You spoke of wanting to rest, to finally give in after everything you've gone through- only to change your mind and claw for survival at the last instant. It seems that even _you_ don't know what you truly desire."

Waving his arm behind him, the triangles and light spread apart at Dimitri's touch- they scattered in different directions until a clear route that stretched off into the distance could be seen, the wind howling all the while.

"I promise you this- the path will reveal that much, at least. Your trials have begun, Inferno."

He grinned at the bleeding Pilot.

"The Deep will pass its judgement soon enough."


	2. The Trial of Penance

"You still haven't answered my question."

How long had he been walking now? Hours? Days? Minutes? He couldn't tell- time seemed to ebb and flow at will, and he'd trek for miles and miles to look back and see that he'd only taken a few steps.

If he _was _dead, as he was beginning to believe was likely the case, then this was one hell of a limbo to stick him in. If he _wasn't_ dead, then he'd surely gone insane because there was no rhyme or reason to why any of this should be happening at all.

But despite everything happening, it would be far more tolerable if he hadn't been stuck with the one person he could have gone the rest of his life without talking to again-

"You _did _go the rest of your life without talking to me. I don't think having a conversation is asking too much-"

He gritted his teeth, and turned to Dimitri who had materialized on a rock off to his right, sitting and staring at him with a guise of innocence. "You betrayed me- you tried to _kill_ me. What gives you the _right _to think I owe you a goddamn thing?"

"I never said you did," the other man said, holding his hands up. "But surely you'd rather talk than just walk the whole way in silence?"

"No," he said shortly, and continued walking. The floating triangles in the air glittered at him, sparkling as he moved and their reflections of light shifted position.

"That sounds like-"

"Like I don't want to talk?"

"No," Dimitri said, narrowing his eyes. "Like you don't want to give an answer."

Tobias spun about and pointed at the apparition, his gloved hand slicked with his own blood. _"You don't get to question me!_ Not after everything you did, you don't deserve so much as a second thought-"

"Then why give me one?"

He found himself speechless, completely without an answer for the sudden question which had caught him off-guard.

Dimitri cocked his head ever so slightly. "You've made it clear that you hold me in utter contempt- yet, you thought of me often in your life. In your darkest moments, when you were broken, alone, at your most vulnerable- your mind would turn to me. Why?"

He stood rooted to the spot, his expression quickly changing from one of surprise to that of sheer loathing.

"What the hell do you want me to say, Dee? That your betrayal scarred me? That I spent the rest of my life wondering if someone else was going to turn around and stab me in the back? Congratulations, the answer is _yes._"

"Well, now we're getting somewhere!" Dimitri said cheerfully, completely ignoring the scathing tone that coated his words. "Glad to know I made _some _kind of impact on your life."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

"Just the memory of one."

He threw his arm up in the air in barely contained rage. "What the hell is that even supposed to mean? You say you're just a memory- what is this then? Is any of this even real, or just some hallucination I've concocted?"

Dimitri shrugged. "Who said it couldn't be both?"

"Go to hell."

"Seems we're already there, my friend."

For the first time since he'd arrived in this dark and barren world, he gave a laugh- a short, pained bark of mirth. "We are _not _friends."

"We used to be."

"That was before I learned that you were a two-faced bastard who would have gladly killed me, Gates, and anyone else who got in your way all for a bit of coin," he spat.

Dimitri gave him an eerie grin. "And you think that having a different face around would be better?"

He snorted, and swiveled his head to look back at the path ahead, its trail disappearing far off into the horizon. "Without a doubt."

"_Don't say he didn't warn you."_

He felt his insides freeze, his veins filling up with ice as a new voice spoke, one that he instantly recognized despite the years since he'd last heard it.

"Well? You wanted to see a friend- I hope I can still count myself as one."

Slowly, he turned around to face the speaker. His eyes took in several details as he did so- the short, buzzed blonde hair that he'd come to associate with her, and the amber eyes that stared back at him warmly.

"… Tyra?"

"Hey, Four," she said with a small laugh, stepping closer. She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow at his state. "You've certainly seen better days."

He held a hand out tentatively, unsure of whether or not to trust what he saw before him. In typical 'Tyra' fashion, she opted to rush things along and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He hesitated only for a second longer, then scrunched his eyes and reciprocated. The sting of tears that followed was nothing compared to the overwhelming joy he felt at seeing her again.

"Didn't ever take you for a hugger," she joked, pleasantly surprised by his willingness to return her gesture. He gripped her even tighter, as though afraid that she'd disappear if he were to let go.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, eyes still shut tightly. "I-I'm so sorry …"

She said nothing, opting to let him run his course before engaging him again. Finally, he released her and stepped back.

"How … how are you here?"

"Same way that _he _is," she said, referring to the now-absent manifestation of Dimitri. "The 'how' isn't what's important- it's the _'why'_ you need to care about."

He swallowed hard. "Then … why are you here?"

She flashed a soft smile at him. "To help you, of course."

He sighed, and rotated his view back to the path forward. "You're another memory, aren't you?"

"Yes. Another face from your past, one you refuse to forget." She leaned towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "That doesn't mean I'm not real, Tobias."

"Then what _does _it mean?"

"That's what I'm here to help you understand," she said quietly. "The path before you is hard, yes. Perhaps the hardest you'll ever face. But only by seeing it through to the end will you know the truth, and begin to heal."

"What truth?"

She shook her head sadly. "It's not my place to say."

"You say you're here to help me, but you're being just as cryptic as he is," he groaned, lowering his head in consternation. "How can I follow the path when I don't know what it is, where it leads … I feel like I'm walking in circles in my own mind, like I'm not even making progress-"

"Then perhaps you're not moving in the right direction." Suddenly, she was sitting on a rock a few feet away from him, and she patted the area beside her invitingly.

Resignedly, he limped over and set himself gingerly on the rock. She bit her lip in concern at his wounds, still dripping with red. "That was the toughest battle you've ever fought, wasn't it?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, and let a pained smile cross his features. "A suicide mission, hopelessly outmatched, against an omnipotent AI … wouldn't be my kind of mission otherwise, would it?"

"Not that one," she said with a smirk, "although that _was _a tough one. I was referring to the moment you decided you wanted to live."

The smile disappeared from his face, and suddenly he found himself back at that split second, everything turned to ash around him- he had been so close to slipping away, so close to letting go of that last string holding him to life and finding peace …

"_**I'm not ready to give up on us."**_

"I don't know how you found the willpower," Tyra admitted in genuine awe. "Not just then- somehow, you always managed to find a way to keep going- but at that moment, when it was practically set in stone that you were screwed, you stood your ground." She turned to look at him with an expression of total respect. "The battle to not let yourself go … that had to have been the greatest struggle you've endured."

"What does this have to do with the path?" he asked quietly, hastily wiping his eyes.

"Everything," she said simply. "Do you remember the last words you spoke to me?"

He had no chance to reply- the scene flashed before him, shown to him as though from a film reel that he was part of.

_The smell of chalk, dust wafting about in the air from the debris's disturbance._

"_**Four …"**_

_He placed his hands under her armpits, lifting with all his strength as she cried out in pain._

"_**I can do this! I can do this. I'm gonna get you out of this, I promise, you're gonna be fine-"**_

He felt a lump grow in his throat, and he blinked a few times to stem the flow of wetness that he could feel building up. "I remember."

"You blamed yourself, didn't you?"

"How could I_ not?" _he asked her seriously. "I promised you that I'd save you, that you'd be fine- and I failed."

"You didn't fail- you just made a promise you couldn't keep." She knitted her brows together, her tone one of comfort- not of anger. "It wasn't your fault I died."

They sat there in silence for a few moments, the distant wind providing a rather gloomy ambiance to their already dreary conversation. After letting it stretch on a bit longer, Tyra sighed and looked away.

"You've made a habit of breaking promises," she muttered thoughtfully. "Never intentionally- but you know it, I know it, so there's no point denying it." She looked back at him. "And those promises haunt you."

He breathed deeply. "I promised to never abandon Kay- and I broke that one _twice_. I promised I would save you, and we both know how that turned out."

"… And the stars?"

He grimaced, and looked upward sadly. No stars in the black sky- just the triangles of light. "You were there when I first made that promise to her. Erebus … the discovery that started it all." He shook his head in disbelief. "After all this time … I never made good on that vow. Once or twice, maybe- but exploring the cosmos? Finding our own way together, seeing everything the frontier had to offer?"

He curled his fingers into a fist, anger rising up within him. "We never had the time. We were never given the chance- god, I wanted to give her nothing more."

"And now we've reached the crux of the problem."

He stared at her, totally taken aback by her statement. "What?"

"Your willpower, your determination," she explained, looking into his eyes, "it's all motivated by failure."

His eyes widened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You've spent so much time fighting for others that you never once fought for yourself," she continued. "You joined the Militia to make amends for killing Shears, you were willing to sacrifice yourself in the Tempest because you thought you'd find redemption, and you only joined the fight against Spyglass because you needed to save Kay. You're always running from your mistakes, always trying to protect the ones you love from your own shortcomings."

She crossed her arms. "That's why you've never forgotten this face. Why you've never forgotten Dimitri's- because, though you might deny it, you still blame yourself for our deaths- his especially. You never want to repeat the past- having to leave a friend behind … or having to kill one yourself."

"I don't blame myself for what happened to Dee," he snarled angrily, now on the defensive.

"_Oh, yes you do."_

His head snapped back to the new source of noise- Dimitri had returned, and watched him smugly. "You're not brave, Four- you're a damn coward is what you are."

"I'm a coward?" he repeated loudly, fury beginning to take hold of him. _"I'm _a coward?!"

"Yes, you are!" Dimitri roared back at him. "That's you, too damned afraid to move on! Too terrified to accept what happened and get on with your life! You keep this face in your memory, holding onto it when you have nothing left to lose- and you think of me just to remind yourself that things could always be worse."

"WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"he finally exploded, standing up from his seat on the rock and grabbing the collar of Dimitri's shirt. "You gave me no choice- I _had _to kill you, or you would have killed me! You would have killed _everyone_, goddamn it … what else could I have done?!"

"Nothing. You're right- you had to do it."

His vision became blurry as tears began to stream freely, and he felt his body become wracked with sobs as his grip loosened. "Why … why did you do it? Why did you make me kill you?"

"You don't remember this face because you killed me," Dimitri said softly. "You remember because you think you could have saved me."

Tobias said nothing for a few seconds- then looked down at the ground in shame. "I didn't read the signs, never suspected that you were the mole. Maybe if I had-"

"Four."

"Maybe I could have stopped the confrontation altogether. Or I could have reasoned with you, I could have-"

"_Four."_

He fell silent again, and watched as Dimitri place a hand on each of his shoulders. _"I did this. Not you."_

"But-"

"No." The man locked eyes with Tobias, demanding the Pilot's attention. "I betrayed you. Like you said, I would have killed you- would have killed _everyone. _I left you no choice- and rather than give up, you faced me and did what you had to. You know deep down that it wasn't your fault. Yet, you considered it a personal failure of yours- and it stayed with you for the rest of your life."

He lifted his right hand and placed two fingers over the center of Tobias's chest. "You have to stop letting your past decide your future- you can't spend your life worrying about 'what-if's' and 'could-have-been's', and you certainly can't go around thinking of yourself as a coward. Any fool can be brave, standing against an enemy without fear- but it takes another kind of strength to be _courageous, _to face down your foe _despite_ your fear."

He paused. "You are the most courageous man I've ever known, Four. It's a shame I couldn't see that at the time."

Tobias gave a few small sniffs before nodding slowly. "I wish things had been different, Dee."

"Me too, Four." Dimitri smiled at him. "Me too."

And with that, he disappeared.

He heard a whistle from behind him. "Looks like you're making some progress now, huh?"

She was right- the landscape had changed. He saw that he had moved ahead on the trail, and by quite a large margin. Miles had seemingly passed without any effort- and yet, he knew that it had been among the most grueling distances he'd ever covered.

She gave a soft sigh. "You know what's coming."

"Yeah," he whispered, "I do." He turned around to look back at the manifestation of Tyra. "I don't want to let you go."

"You're not really letting me go so much as you're setting us both free." She closed the gap between them, and held out her hand. He placed his own in its palm, and watched as she squeezed it tightly. "You heard what he said, and you know it's true- you can't blame yourself for what happened to me any more than you can for what happened to him."

"You forgive me?"

She looped her arm around his neck, and pulled him closer into an embrace. "I can't forgive you- because there's nothing to forgive."

He buried his face into her shoulder, gritting his teeth as he did so. "Tyra … "

"You've lived your whole life for others, Tobias. It's time to live for yourself."

And then he was alone once more.


End file.
